After the Rain
by Estelle Rabon
Summary: Sequel to The Power to Kill. Rated for violence and brief language. Dennis must struggle to keep Mindy safe from unseen enemies, assassins who are determined to do anything to destroy the monarchy...
1. Part Uno

**_Author's Note: _**Hello, hello, hello! Contrary to popular belief, I am not dead, so... Well, it's finally here, the sequel to "The Power to Kill"! Actually, it's not quite finished...still got a few bugs to work out and a final chapter to finish, but we're nearing the home stretch. So, nearly a year after the first one came out, here's the second installment "After the Rain."

But first, a few brief words of thanks and some needed acknowledgements:

First, to my little brother, the only person in the **real** world to read the first one, who actually surprised me with genuine praise. He IS a profound critic, however, and won't hesitate to remind me how much of an idiot I am. Thanks, "Scorch" (that's his Star Wars name ...shrug)!

Also, extreme gratitude to DiamondTopaz (author of a brilliant rendition of The SpongeBob Christmas Carol), for tirelessly proofreading all my chapters so far, and for offering helpful suggestions whenever I got stuck. Without her wisdom and unwavering support, this story would not be what it is today. Also, thanks for letting me use her characters: the Stingray 5000 band! You're the _best_!

To the reviewers: who seem to think PTK was, like, the best thing ever, even though it could have been so much better...you flatter me too much. Here's hoping you like ATR as much as the first story.

Oh! And to Dennis, for agreeing to let me write the story, and for _not_ utterly killing me when I ruined his tough guy image. XD (Corny, no?)

Oh, by the way, we have a very special treat for you this time! Chapter titles! W00! Go me! Okay...So this story starts _right_ where the other one left off. 'Kay? Also, if you've never read PTK, I encourage you to do so. Just go to my user profile. (shameless advertising over)

And now, after a ridiculously long introduction, here's the sequel to "The Power to Kill":

**After the Rain**

Disclaimer: As you know, I don't own any of the characters created by Steven Hillenburg, but I do own mine, so don't steal them...and don't sue... I mean, you have to pretty self-absorbed to go around waiting for a chance to do something like, you know?

**_Part Uno: A New Hope_**

The door burst open. Dennis closed his eyes, his mind barely grasping the sound. Silent tears welled in his eyes, although he wasn't sure who he was crying for anymore…

Kalid appeared inside the room. Dennis looked up through bloodshot eyes, his fingers still gripping the gun. Kalid looked alarmed, then held his hands out in a pleading gesture.

"Dennis, whatever you're doing, stop! I came to say…"

"What?" he growled, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Mindy's alive!" Kalid burst, his thin chest rising up and down. Dennis said nothing.

"I saw her die…" he finally choked. Determinedly, he clutched the gun, tightly fingering the trigger.

"No! Don't you understand? She's still alive! The paramedics…they came…and she's breathing…" Kalid was babbling now, barely able to keep his words from tumbling out over one another. "MINDY ISN'T DEAD!"

Dennis's mouth opened and closed. He stared at Kalid, whose face was lit up and he was beaming wildly. And for the first time in what seemed like years, Dennis's face broke into a smile.

"What?" he repeated, unable to mask his elation.

"You heard me! She's alive! Come quick!"

"She's alive?" He stood up, the gun dropping back onto the bed. "She's alive! Of course! She's alive!" He grabbed Kalid by the shoulders, lifting him off the ground. Kalid looked around nervously, remembering the last time he'd encountered Dennis. But Dennis was fairly aglow with glee. In a burst of joy, he kissed the squire on the forehead. Kalid frowned and slapped him smartly across the face.

"What are you doing, man? Your lady needs you! Go to her!"

"Right, right…" Dennis said, dropping Kalid. As a last thought, he turned and patted the servant on the head, then ran out the door, shouting Mindy's name.

His heart leaped in his chest, sending foreign tremors throughout his body. The smile on his face grew until his cheeks ached. But what if it was all false hope? What if—after that he thought nothing, only to continue running, not even to hope…

He arrived upon a throng of people, milling about. He was too far away to read their faces…he didn't dare try, not until he was there, pushing his way through the crowd.

Dennis stared down at the ground now, at a blood-colored stain on the yellow dividers of the road. The coppery stench hit him, making his stomach heave. Where was she? He looked up, tears and sweat running down his face. He saw the ambulance, along with a group of paramedics hoisting a stretcher into the air. Mindy…

He worked his way closer, a lump gathering in his throat. He shoved several bystanders out of his way, ignoring their cries of protest. He just had to see her…

"Sir?" one of the medics said as Dennis climbed into the ambulance. Dennis froze, staring at first the blinking monitor and then at the broken figure on the cot. He knelt down beside her, taking her hand in his, crying. It was warm. He could feel her pulse in her wrist, weak, faint, but there. She was alive.

"D-Dennis?" she spoke suddenly. The words were barely discernable, slurred by her dry lips. "Are you alright?" she gasped, her red eyes laced with concern. He hugged her fiercely, tears wavering his voice.

"Yes," he murmured, "I am now."

* * *

The ambulance roared toward the hospital. Dennis's heart weighed heavy in his chest. One of the medics stood against the steel walls, gripping the edge of Mindy's stretcher, knuckles white. The grim expression on his face told Dennis that the danger was far from over.

His chest squeezed tightly, threatening to choke him. So he talked. He held Mindy's limp hand and said whatever came to his mind, trying to soothe her and ease the dread seeping into his bones.

Mindy choked on phlegm and blood and the medic quickly rushed over and let her drink from a packet of water. When she was done she looked at Dennis with dull eyes.

"There was a priest here…a while ago…" Tears flowed from her eyes. "He…he came to give me Last Rites…in case I…I died."

"Oh, Mindy…" he whispered. There was a sadness about her face, deeper than any he had ever seen.

Then they came to the hospital and they rushed her inside.

"How bad?" he said distantly.

The medic with white knuckles looked at him with the same dull, sad, frantic eyes—all those emotions at once—and said nothing. Dennis set his mouth in a firm line and walked into the building.

"Where?" he demanded. A nurse was wringing her hands nervously. She looked up and pointed shakily down a long white corridor. He hurried down it, telling himself the same thing over and over, "She'll be fine…she'll be fine."

The corridor led to a whitewashed waiting room with cold leather chairs and metal arms. The floor marched across the room with red, white, green tiles, a pattern continuing past two oak double doors on the other side of the room. A doctor came out, rubbing the back of his neck. Dennis rushed over.

"You have to stay out here," the doctor said firmly, giving him a stern gaze.

"I have to be with her," he said, his voice shaking. His knees trembled, threatening to give way.

"The best thing you can do is wait…wait and pray," the doctor said. He patted Dennis on the shoulder and walked away, staring at a clipboard.

Dennis sank into a chair, unable to keep from shaking. Suddenly everything that had happened in the past few hours caught up with him. He leaped out of his seat and vomited. His eyes were sunken, hollow; his throat burned. He slumped dizzily into the chair, his insides swimming.

He had almost killed himself. If Kalid hadn't—If Mindy didn't pull through…what if—Too many unfinished sentences, too many ifs. He swallowed, fighting the sick feeling in his stomach. He clasped his hands together. The fluorescent lights hummed and flickered overhead…

And then he thought of something else. He had thrown his life away at the beginning, all those years ago, pushing all thought of conscience and rectitude behind him. He had never really thought…never even thought. Life. He had taken it away from innocent (and not so innocent) people…too many times. Without even wondering why. But if he had asked that question—why?—what would the answer be? Because it paid. Because he couldn't have gone back. Because he didn't want to think. Thinking made him remember the lost, made him recollect all those people who had mattered to him, gone now…Mom, Mark, even Chad…

And what he was going through now, and what he had gone through—thinking that Mindy was dead—how many families had been put through that? How many mothers and children worried when their fathers did not return? His eyes lolled back in his head, he felt faint…if he had only thought…only stopped to think…

Who knows how long he sat there, regretting everything he'd ever done, and feeling helpless against the will of fate? The only thing that stirred him from his worry was the arrival of Kalid.

The squire was just as jittery as always, his excitement from before quelled slightly. He sat down across from Dennis, his short legs not even touching the floor. He looked at Dennis quietly, regarding him. Dennis was unstable, he knew. He recalled an image, of Dennis, his hair awry, sweat pouring down his face, a gun trembling in his hand. Kalid shuddered, wondering just what would have happened.

But, he thought romantically, anyone who would care _that much _for someone…was well worth it.

"What are you looking at?" Dennis snapped. Kalid started. Dennis sighed. He could see the worry in the servant's eyes.

"Why isn't the king here yet?" Dennis finally asked. Kalid shook his head.

"He'll be here soon. He was in an important meeting."

Dennis clutched the metal rests of the chair tightly. "More important than his daughter's life?" he said grimly.

"Well…it might have something to do with the guy that was driving the car…I don't know, they didn't tell me anything," Kalid said. Dennis sat up straighter, his mind working. His knuckles clenched together, relishing the thought of the driver getting his just reward…even his merciful side wouldn't let him forget Mindy's broken form, those blood-stained tears running down her face…

Suddenly someone burst into the room. A tubby starfish threw himself onto Dennis, his face wet with tears.

"Is she okay, Mr. Dennis? Please tell me she's okay!" Patrick Star wailed, burying his face in Dennis's pant leg. Dennis tried futilely to pry him off.

"Patrick, don't," SpongeBob SquarePants said tiredly, trudging in. "He's just as worried as you are."

"Say?" Patrick said, lifting his head up, not hearing SpongeBob. "Is she…Is Mindy okay?"

Dennis sighed. "I don't know."

Kalid bit back a snicker. Dennis glared at him.

"C'mon, Patrick," SpongeBob said angrily. He grabbed Patrick's feet and yanked him off Dennis' leg. "Sorry about this," SpongeBob said nervously. He never felt comfortable around Dennis. Too many bad memories.

Dennis shifted his glare to the two FOOLS. What on earth were _they _doing here? Then he remembered. Patrick, the dumb one, had a crush on Mindy. He smiled tightly. It was actually funny. But the despair in Patrick's eyes—that wasn't funny.

SpongeBob and Patrick took a seat beside Kalid. Dennis looked at the clock on the wall. It had been hours. It was nearly midnight.

What if she didn't pull through? He clasped his hands together, staring at a spot on the wall. Tears stung his eyes unwillingly.

After what seemed like an eternity of waiting, the double doors opened. Four pairs of hopeful eyes shifted to the nurse standing there. She clutched a notebook to her chest, staring at it over her glasses. She looked up blankly and, very slowly, a smile spread across her face.

"Surgery was a success. Princess Mindalia should recover—"

Whatever else she said was lost in a chorus of raucous cheers.


	2. Part Dos

**_Author's Note: _**Yay! Another chapter! First, I want to thank everyone who reviewed. I haven't forgotten how nice you were during the first story, and I thank you for all the support! Anyway, in this chapter the plot picks up a little, so hopefully you'll enjoy!

Disclaimer: Meesa no own these characters except those which meesa own. :)

**_Part Dos: Suspicions_**

Addie Stevenson rushed down the bleak corridor, her shoes squeaking on the polished floor. She tucked a strand of blond hair behind her ear and swept her eyes over the door numbers. Here. Number 215.

She placed one hand on the shiny metal handle and rapped lightly on the door. She pressed down on the latch and entered the room. All was dim. The windows were open, but outside the sky was dull and drab. Her nose tingled at the uncomfortable hospital smell. She dropped her bag down on the floor and stood quietly in the corner.

She wasn't the only one visiting Mindy that day. One of Neptune's squires—Mindy had called him Kalid, she thought—sat in a corner, reading. She had seen the royal carriage outside, so the king must have been there, in the building, but he wasn't here now. A nurse was placing another vase of flowers on a table. And Dennis sat slumped in a chair, nearly dozing. She smiled wanly, remembering her childhood crush.

"Hey, princess," Addie said quietly, so as not to disturb Dennis. Mindy grinned. Her sapphire hair was pulled back in a messy bun and her face looked bright and radiant, despite the stitches in her cheek and her slightly swollen right eye. Her arm was still in a sling, the sleeves on her hospital gown cut off to make room for the bandages covering her terribly bruised shoulder. It had only been two weeks since the accident, but everyone said Mindy was recovering exceptionally well.

"Hey, Addie. Did you get those tickets yet?" Addie rolled her eyes and dug in her purse. She pulled out three tickets and laid two on Mindy's bedside table.

"Right here. I got an extra one, in case Dennis wants to go, and if he doesn't, I can always sell it," Addie paused. "But remember, if the doctors say you can't go…"

"Of course I can. I wouldn't miss Stingray's concert for the world!"

"Alright, if you're sure. But if you can't, I'll just have to take someone else…"

"No you won't. That's an order."

The two giggled, but Mindy had to stop for a moment to cough. Dr. Flemington had said she must have gotten a touch of pneumonia the day of the accident. There were still traces of it left, it seemed.

"Let's hope you recover in time for the coronation," Kalid said brightly, looking up from his novel.

Mindy's eyes shone, a smile spreading across her face. "I can't wait…"

Kalid frowned absently, "Let's also hope you're ready for the responsibility..."

"I won't be on my own, though. Aren't I just going to be...like co-ruler or something?"

"It's _still_ a heavy burden. Believe me, I had to give up an arm and a leg to convince Neptune you didn't need to wait until your twenty-first birthday."

"I'll be fine..." Mindy said, not trying to mask her irritation.

No one noticed the glazed, distant look in Addie's eyes...the way her hands fluttered nervously to her hair… No one noticed when she bit her cheek as she stared out the window, trying not to breathe a word…

Dennis woke from his dream. He wiped sweat from his brow. In the nightmare, he had been running, running, trying to rescue himself from some unseen danger…and he hadn't realized that Mindy was in trouble too, until it was too late to save her…

He needed to stop this. He looked at Mindy, soft and tranquil lying in a bed of white, dozing. He couldn't lose her again.

He was the only one there now. He vaguely remembered Kalid leaving and the king popping in and out. What time was it, anyway? Only 6:00. Visiting hours weren't even over.

He had never felt before how _tired _he was. He'd been at this hospital for a full week, even when Mindy had begged him to go home. His emotions were too raw. If he left her for even a moment…

A quiet knock came at the door. Dennis glanced up to see…oh no. He groaned. The two FOOLS again. He yawned stiffly and rested his fist in his cheek.

SpongeBob gave a quiet little wave. Dennis scowled. Patrick walked in silently.

"Hey, there," SpongeBob said, a little too loudly for the small room. Patrick glared at him.

"Can it, SquarePants," he fumed. Now he was staring rapturously at Mindy. Dennis clutched the edge of his chair. Why he oughtta—

"Hmm? I'm awake, I'm awake," Mindy muttered sleepily. She sat up, smiling. "How long have you been here?"

Something panged in his heart—the weird mushy feeling again. He couldn't help but beam.

SpongeBob elbowed Patrick hard in the ribs.

"Oh!" Patrick started. He thrust a card out to Mindy. "Get well soon!"

"Wow. Another one," she said, stifling a yawn. "Thanks!" She took it and set it amidst the other cards all signed "Love, Patrick" …and usually with a hastily tacked on "+ SB".

Mindy's mouth was set in a thin line, beads of sweat appearing on her forehead. Dennis jumped up and slowly pressed her back against the pillows, adjusting them until her signs of compressed pain went away.

"I love you," she said, wrinkling her nose.

"Yeah, yeah," he whispered, flushing red. "Just tell these two to get out. They're disturbing you."

"Yeah, _I'm _the one that's disturbed. Don't get all defensive, Dennis. You—"

"Hello?" came a crackly voice from the door. Dennis turned to see an old woman—at least eighty—come in. She had a pair of horn-rim glasses on her head and she was dressed simply in a dull blue dress.

"How are ya, Princess?" the woman said, a mischievous twinkle in her eye.

"Mrs. Jones!" Mindy cried, her voice cracking.

Dennis did a double take. It was her—she was much older, but there was no mistaking it. He waited uncomfortably as their kindergarten teacher leaned over to pat Mindy on the head.

"You've certainly changed since I last saw ya," Mrs. Jones said. Mindy laughed silently.

"Oh! And who's this?" Mrs. Jones asked, eyebrows raised. She stared Dennis up and down until his face was beet red.

"You mean you don't remember?" Mindy exclaimed. "That's Dennis—same as the one in kindergarten."

Mrs. Jones' eyebrows went up even higher, so high, in fact, that her glasses popped back down onto the bridge of her nose. "You don't say?" She stepped back and gave him another once-over. "I remember you. A troublemaker. One of the best students I've ever had. An artist…" Something—like worry, maybe?—flickered in her brown eyes. Then she smiled widely. "Always knew you two'd hit it off!"

Mindy rolled her eyes as Dennis coughed. Patrick, forgotten until now, gave an angry snort. SpongeBob suppressed giggles.

Mrs. Jones visited with them all for quite some time. Before long it was 8:00 and visitor's hours were drawing to a close.

"Dennis?" Mrs. Jones whispered while Mindy and the boys were in conversation. "A word, if you please?"

Dennis followed her out in the hall. The hallways were dark. Light fixtures hung at intervals, casting only small pools of light around them. Mrs. Jones looked odd, very serious, very eerie.

"You've had a rough life, ain'tcha?" she asked bluntly. "Pa left ya, then your mother—God rest her soul—and then you went down some ugly road. Don't say anything," she said, holding up a hand as he opened his mouth. "I'm not here to judge you. It's just that—" She glanced inside the room through a crack in the door where Mindy was laughing.

"Being royal is…hard. Old Neptune probably wouldn't have even let her come to school had she not wanted to be like everyone else. She's very different from her father. She might make a good queen someday…" Mrs. Jones paused, staring off into space. "But you wouldn't believe how many people don't want any Tridentian on the throne. They don't want anyone." She licked her lips. "And now that the coronation is coming up..."

Dennis's stomach twisted. "What are you saying?" he said faintly.

She turned and looked straight at him. "You're a good kid, Dennis. I think you made some bad choices, had a lotta bad things happen to ya, but I think you want to put it all behind you. The way you looked at her—" She trailed off again, a wan smile on her face. "You love her. Deeply. Something you don't see a lot of in everyday life.

"Now listen close, because what I'm going to say next is really important." He leaned closer to hear. Her face looked distressed and pained, like she could hardly believe what she was saying. Her voice cracked.

"That car wreck," she said, whispering, "…was no accident."


	3. Part Tres

**Author's Note: **Holy crap yes! I have returned, after a very long, long break... To be truthful, I got so fed up with this story I stopped working on it for months. But then I picked it back up and I'm happy to say that it's finally finished! Hooray! So hopefully there won't be any more huge gaps between posting.

I'll probably go back and tweak the last two chapters too, although nothing drastic will be changed. I just like tweaking...

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the SpongeBob characters. But the baddies are ALL mine. (evil grin)

_**Part Tres** : **The Storm Gathers**_

Dennis started. "Wh-what are you saying?"

"You know they never found the driver… the one responsible for Mindy's injuries? Well, it wasn't just some drunk. Someone wanted her dead."

He stared at her silently, then chuckled. "That's not possible."

She said nothing.

"Are you serious? You mean it was… would have been… murder? …you're kidding…"

"I wish I was. There's unrest in the city. Who knows why? Maybe since that madman, Plankton, tried to take over… maybe the people just don't want anyone in control, even someone as sweet and caring as Mindy."

Dennis swallowed, but the lump in his throat wouldn't go away. "How do you know?" he whispered.

Her eyes flicked to the ground. "Protect her, Dennis. Keep her safe, because this won't be the last time." And she turned and walked away, her shoes echoing down the hall.

Slowly he staggered back into the room. Mindy was saying goodbye to FOOLS. Suddenly he saw an image of her, all bloody again, a shot still ringing in his ears. His vision clouded and he leaned woozily against the wall.

"What's wrong?" Mindy snapped, as the remaining visitors closed the door. She rose up slightly, grimaced, and lay back down.

"Nothing… I just felt a little faint…"

"You're tired. Please go home. I'll be fine."

Tears sprang to his eyes. He wiped them away fruitlessly. Of course, there was no way to prove Jones's suspicions. It wasn't as if you could plan to run over someone. Or could you?

"Kalid will come soon," Mindy continued. "I wouldn't be alone. You deserve to rest."

He shook his head. "It's nothing, really. You should sleep."

"Dennis, you are wearing yourself out…"

"I'm fine…"

"I could make you. I am a princess, you know—"

"NO!" he cried. Mindy was taken aback. He breathed hard, a tight vise forming around his chest. "_Protect her… keep her safe… this won't be the last time…"_ Maybe it was just paranoia of an old woman. Maybe not. He couldn't take that risk.

"What's going on?" piped a squeaky voice from the door. Mindy sighed as Kalid entered hesitantly.

"Dennis is just being stubborn again," she said. She smiled weakly. Dennis gave her a grateful smile, more with his eyes than his face. She sensed his relief and decided that if Dennis felt compelled to stay here, then let him.

---

The warehouse was dark and quiet. The only light was the curling orange amber of a cigarette—the only sound was the smoker, inhaling deeply. The near-silence only lasted another few seconds, when a harsh voice cut through the darkness.

"Put that thing away!" The cigarette was extinguished, stomped into the ground. "You'll smother both of us!"

The smoker made an irritated sound, which settled into a cough.

The two individuals—one a man in his late thirties, the other a young, very _outspoken_ woman—sat tensely, waiting. The man, still aggravated over the loss of his cigarette, began picking at one of the buttons on the couch. The woman waited a minute, then punched him—hard—in the ribs.

"Neptune, woman—" he cried. He was silenced by another blow.

"Don't even _say_ that name…" she growled through gritted teeth.

The man swore under his breath.

It was hard, just waiting.

In the dark.

Without a cigarette.

Their group, the Underground, had dispersed for nearly two weeks after the accident, each stewing in their own private thoughts. _What an idiot. What was he thinking?_

The idiot had contacted them yesterday, saying that it was safe to make it back. Keep the door open.

They'd keep it open all right. Then they'd lock it up tight and give him the beating of his life.

_What an idiot._

But Cameron Willis, who was walking briskly down the street, his bandaged hands dug deep in his pockets, did not think he was idiotic. He was actually thinking that his plan had been brilliant.

He only regretted that the girl had lived.

Cam scowled, brushing his brown-blond hair out of his eyes. If anything, it was _they_ who were the fools. Always talk, never action. His jaw tightened. He was the only one willing to take initiative, the only one willing to get the job done instead of sitting around in the dark, waiting for "just the right moment." Hmph. He hoped _they_ had had a lovely two weeks. _They_ weren't the ones who were spending their nights in cellars, in alleys, with bleeding hands from broken glass, having to get rid of the car, making their slow, painful way through the lonely streets. _They_ were having it easy.

If there was anyone who had suffered the most because of Neptune's reign, it was Cam. Shouldn't he be the one who dealt the vengeful blows on the whole royal family?

There was a bright spark to his eye, a dark lust for revenge. He curled his sore fingers, imagining them curled around her pale throat…

He uncurled them quickly. He shook his head. Too risky. When she died, it would be very fast, so fast that no one would know… no one could suspect.

Warehouse D-119 appeared in view. Without fully realizing it, he let out a sigh of relief. The grungy walls with smoke-blackened corners would have sent any normal person hurrying past, but to him it was familiar, a welcome haven. It was safe, at least. They'd be waiting for him, with congratulatory handshakes and words of praise. Maybe they'd finally see that things could only happen with action.

Smiling, he pushed open the door.

It was dark, but then, it always was. He groped in the half-light streaming from the doorway until he found a kerosene lamp. He twisted it on. It burned happily.

He turned. A nervous gulp rose from his throat.

_They_ didn't look happy.

"What the heck was that?" said Celesa. Her spiky black hair was swept across her face. He could see the angry knit of one eyebrow and the delicate turn of her mouth. Her face was growing redder by the minute.

Cam held up his hands. "Hey! I trudge through crud-infested streets for days and _this_ is how I'm greeted?" His voice was annoyingly high. Not a good sign. He raised his eyebrows, trying to calm down. But Celesa's wrath was… actually pretty scary.

She strode over to him, glaring. Despite the fact that she was several inches shorter than him, he found himself cowering away. She jabbed a long, manicured finger into his chest.

"You slime! Do you know how close you came to ruining _everything_? We've talked about this…"

Fury rose within him. "That's just it! You talk, Celesa! You never act!"

"We're _going_ to act, Cam. We've been planning this for months. Now they're going to be suspicious. You know what your little stunt will mean? It'll mean heightened security… press coverage… recovery time for Mindy... That's time we can't afford to spend! Don't you see? If we get behind schedule, the whole thing might never go through! The doctor was furious!"

"Well, let him be. I was doing what you wanted us to do!"

"Cam! You know as well as I do that what you did wasn't about _us_! It was about you! It was a selfish mistake that may very well ruin everything!"

Cam smiled. "You're repeating yourself, dear."

She growled. The smoker raised his eyebrows but remained quiet. Best to stay out of this.

"Look," said Cam, grabbing her wrists. "Here's what I'm saying. Let's just stake them out for a while. We'll see if they even suspect anything. As far as I know, they'll think it was only an accident. Does that reassure you?"

"No." She shot him an icy glare. He pulled her into his chest.

"I don't regret what I did, Celesa. If Mindy had died, it would have eliminated a lot of problems for us. It would have created a distraction… just big enough for us to finish the job. But she didn't. We have to follow through with what we've—I've—started…"

She pushed away from him. Her eyes remained hard, but her shoulders were slumped in defeat.

"Whatever, Cam. Nothing I can say to you is sufficient to describe your... lack of intelligence… You just messed up _bad_. But there isn't anything we can do…" She sighed, and then turned to the other man. "Spread the word that we're going to keep a close eye on the princess. Then we'll decide what to do next."

The smoker nodded, taking a long whiff out of his new cigarette. "Will do."

---

In a quiet, dark room in the heart of Bikini Bottom, an evil mastermind stroked the shell of a white purebred snail. The snail meowed in irritation.

"Oh, quiet, Leeny..." growled its owner. "Soon everything will fall into place... I'll have my revenge and the kingdom will crumble under my feet!"

"I wouldn't count on that..." came a sardonic voice. A computer rolled its way into view, its screen flickering with every carefully pronounced word. "It seems to me that you crumble under everyone else's feet..." The computer laughed at its, or more precisely, her joke.

"Karen..." Dr. Peter Lankton said testily. "Isn't it time for your upgrade?"

The computer looked sheepish. "Yes, _Your Majesty_," it said with thick sarcasm.

Dr. Lankton flicked on a monitor, watching as his henchmen bickered amongst themselves in a godforsaken warehouse. He laughed, long and loud and maniacally. "It won't matter in the end..." he said cryptically. "I'll have my way no matter what those fools decide." He patted Leeny on the eye, much to her irritation, and let out another laugh, for good measure.

"They won't even see it coming..."

---

White, smoky tendrils of fog floated through the town. The yellow sun cast flickers of light on them, making rainbows of red, orange, and gold. The setting was peaceful, full of promise and hope. And indeed, it seemed like a hopeful day.

The nurse tied a balloon on Mindy's wheelchair. Mindy sighed and flicked her hospital wristband absently. She had strongly objected to the wheelchair; it wasn't like she couldn't move, but no one listened to her. At least she wouldn't be confined to it for long.

Dennis leaned over, nervously checking to make sure the chair hadn't been tampered with. What if it happened again here, in front of all these people? There was a terrific throng outside the hospital doors, ready to shower congratulations and get-well-soons on the princess. Surely they wouldn't dare… he decided if there was any proof to Jones's suspicions, they would. If they would try to hurt an innocent girl… He gritted his teeth and gripped the handles of the chair. The sooner they got out of here, the better.

The doors opened, and the balloon bounced from the top of the doorframe. A raucous cheer erupted from the crowd. Joyous freckled faces of young children cried, "Long live Princess Mindy!" while their parents scolded them for leaning too far over the flimsy ropes that had been put up. A few roses flew out, and Mindy caught one with her good arm, smiling. Dennis gawked at the mass of people, his legs leaden as he walked down the sidewalk to an awaiting carriage. He could see Kalid at the end of the line, struggling to open the carriage doors. He turned again to the crowd. A few young teenage boys eyed him contemptuously as he fought back a grin. Photographers fought their way to the front, their cameras flashing in a blinding assault of light. Off to the side, their faces unsmiling, stood a group of four individuals, watching the small procession with blank eyes. He shivered and couldn't have been more relieved when they reached the carriage.

Gently, he lifted Mindy out of the chair and into the carriage. She gave him a small frown, but it was gone in an instant as she leaned out the window and gave one last wave. The crowd cheered louder, their faces bright with glee. Dennis cast a nervous glance at the unsmiling faces. Their expressions never changed. Two of them, one a man and one a woman, wore long leather trench coats, their faces almost totally hidden by upturned collars. The other two wore dark sunglasses and baggy pants. _Perfect for hiding a weapon,_ he thought, a cold sweat breaking over him. His own knives were concealed, at Mindy's request. It might not sit so well with the audience if he were carrying blades in full view. He wanted to protest that visible weapons would discourage any assassins, but he wasn't about to worry her unnecessarily. And he wasn't sure if there was a legitimate reason for his concern. Now he instinctively groped for his knife, but it was hidden and out-of-reach.

He shut the carriage door and walked around to the other side, his heart hammering. All he could see of the crowd were those same four. One lit a cigarette, blew once, and ground it into the dust. In one move, they turned and walked away toward a couple of motorcycles. The one with the cigarette suddenly stopped, turning slowly in the direction of the carriage. Dennis couldn't move, his mind empty with fear. The man faced him full on, cold eyes boring into Dennis's.

_Why is he staring at me?_ Dennis wondered fleetingly. The man continued to stare, unblinking. Then his eyes crinkled with a smirk and he hurried away.

"Dennis, what are you waiting for? Get in!" piped Mindy, her face more bright and alert than it had been in all those long three weeks. It seemed as though she fed off the attention of her subjects. He dashed in, slamming the door behind him. He rubbed a hand over his face, trying to mask his fright.

Mindy rested a hand on his shoulder. "That's okay, Dennis. You get used to the crowds after a while." He tried to smile. He waited till his heart stopped beating quite so fast before he spoke.

"Yes, it's quite overwhelming. I don't see how you do it." Surreptitiously, he reached into his boot and unfastened a knife. He gripped it in the palm of his hand, his fear abating slightly. With a means of defense, he was in control.

"Just don't exhaust yourself," Kalid said to Mindy over his shoulder. He twisted back around in the driver's seat, whipping the reins across the seahorses' backs. The carriage bolted forward. Dennis looked out the window. No sign of that group.

"I won't!" Mindy said dismissively.

"You have to know your limits, Mindy," said a voice right next to Dennis's ear. Neptune sat in the back seat, an imperious smile on his face. Dennis was uncomfortably aware that, from the back, the king could see all. Neptune stared at Dennis a little smugly. He and the king weren't exactly on the best of terms.

"I do," Mindy said quickly. "And I'm a long way from exceeding them... You look pale, Dennis. Do you have a phobia of crowds?"

"No," he said curtly. His hands were shaking.

"Of course. Assassins… they aren't afraid of anything," Neptune scoffed. Dennis tightened his grip on the knife. It wasn't as though he would actually use it, but it usually helped still his anger.

"Dad-dy…" Mindy said, trying to laugh it off. But the tension was still there.

_But I am afraid, _he thought to himself through gritted teeth. _I'm afraid that no matter what I do, it won't be enough, enough to save her, enough to make up for all my sins, enough to win your stupid approval…_

"So are you going to the concert with us tomorrow, Dennis?" Mindy asked.

"I don't know. Are you sure you'll feel up to it?"

Another frown crossed her face. "I'll be fine."

"Yeah…" he said, his annoyance at her growing. "Just a day after you've been released from the hospital for life-threatening injuries, 'you'll be fine'!"

There was an icy silence. Dennis could fairly _hear_ Neptune's glee at Mindy's displeasure with him.

"I told you… I'll be fine."

They arrived at the palace. Neptune and Mindy disembarked while Dennis and Kalid remained in the carriage. Dennis ran his thumb along the blade of the knife, testing its point. Kalid saw it and stiffened, eyes wide.

"Do you ever have any problems with security?" Dennis asked abruptly, eyes never leaving the knife. Kalid stretched the collar of his uniform, his black hair already curled with sweat.

"How do you mean?"

"Suppose someone meant harm to a member of the royal family. Have precautions been taken to prevent it?"

Kalid raised himself up to his full height, and from his position in the driver's seat he was actually taller than Dennis.

"Sir, if you are the one who intends harm…"

Dennis laughed stiffly and pocketed the knife.

"You get nervous too easy, Squire. You know I would never… That's not the point of my asking. It's just… I wondered if there is that danger…"

Kalid relaxed slightly. "My apologies. Yes, of course there is…" Suddenly the squire's eyes went wide, as though he had just remembered something. "B-but you cannot speak to Mindy about your concerns."

"Surely she knows there's a chance…"

"Just don't. It's a touchy subject." Kalid paused. "But I don't think there's extreme danger right now. You saw the crowd. If there was a great unrest, then we'd have to be worried."

Dennis frowned, remembering the picture Jones had painted. "What if there's just one person... or a few... that are unhappy? It only takes one shot."

Kalid gave him a you-would-know look. Dennis was feeling slightly lightheaded just talking about it.

"You would have to talk to the Council about that then," Kalid said, his lips pursed. "However, it is nearly impossible to get an audience. But I'd watch your step, Dennis. Too many questions to the wrong people and you'll find yourself in hot water."

Dennis clambered out of the carriage and Kalid roared off to the stables.

"Doesn't anyone care about _her_?" he muttered. Wearily, he got his bike and headed home.

He was loath to admit he needed money, but it was evident when viewing his rundown apartment on the outskirts of town. He wasn't taking on anymore "jobs", that was for sure, but he could find no other way to make a living. None of the jobs he'd looked at in town agreed with him. His cash was dwindling, however, and he needed to come up with money soon.

He inserted a key in the lock, thinking. _Hey, exactly how had Jones known all that? Unless she was just a little off… No, she had looked sane. But how? Unless…_

He left the thought unfinished as he opened the door. The light clicked on and he could see a white sheet of paper fluttering from his bedroom door. He lunged for it, ripping the note off its tape and reading it with increasing panic.

'_Dennis, _

_I'm afraid for Mindy. The time draws near. Please believe me when I say the danger is real. Don't let her out of your sight. Stay close by and be prepared. For her sake, don't take this lightly. My sources are reliable…'_

It was signed _Jones._

Trying to remain calm, he fingered the note, thinking. How had the note come to be there? Was that important? Just how did she know all this anyway?

He closed his eyes, sorting through the few facts he had._ Can I trust her? Is she some kind of spy? Or does she know firsthand? She's like eighty years old, for Atlantis' sake!_ Through the doubt and bewilderment, however, one thought rang the loudest.

Mindy…

His hands went clammy and his throat grew dry. Dread squeezed around his heart. Mindy…

_No…no…no!_ His mind echoed again and again.

He wouldn't let it happen. Whatever it took, he couldn't let it happen.


	4. Part Cuatro

**_A/N: _**So, I've been thinking... and you guys are just, like, angels. 'Cause the SB community is really small, regrettably. I can't believe anybody would like SpongeBob enough to read this stupid story, and I can't believe _I _liked it enough to write it. We're all just crazy, I guess. Anywho, I just want to thank you all for reviewing. It's really, really sweet of you.

I like this chapter pretty well... although it's given me no end of grief. It's not quite as long as the last one, but the chapters will be noticeably longer from now on. :)

**_Part Cuatro: Plots_**

Dr. Lankton hopped into his overstuffed chair, swiveling excitedly. "We're close, Leeny... So close I can almost taste it!"

Leeny meowed her assent.

"Shall we check up on our puppets?"

"They're not puppets, Sheldon," Karen exclaimed. She wheeled in with a tiny bottle of soda.

"Don't call me that!" he yelled. He took the soda and took a long swig. "Ahh... that hit the spot. But I will not be referred to as Sheldon Plankton ever again! That name is tied to a horrible mockery, a mockery I will never be forced to speak of again! All will bow before Peter Lankton!"

Karen didn't look impressed. "I liked Sheldon better. This new plan of yours... it reeks of failure. _Profound_ failure. Failure so profound, your tiny head will spin at the meaning it implies..."

"Always dramatic..." Dr. Lankton muttered, sipping his soda. "It's a good plan and you know it!"

Karen clicked in frustration and hurried away.

"Now that that shrew is out of the way... it's puppet time!" He pressed a button. An image of a burned-out warehouse greeted him.

"KAREN! Pop some popcorn, _please!_" Karen groaned in protest. "NOW!"

"This is gonna be a good one," Dr. Lankton said, eyeing the screen. "I can tell..."

---

They were all gathered in Warehouse D-119, when the fourth of the Underground's five main members arrived after a very long absence.

"So... Toby and I are going to strike at the concert tomorrow. At the center. Don't wait up..." The smoker—Reggie—was saying quietly, a sadistic grin stretching across his face. Cameron knew that the doctor had signed him up for some sort of 'secret mission', but what it was he wasn't entirely sure... Reggie trailed off he realized the door had opened.

"Jones," Celesa said, a hint of surprise coloring her voice. She quickly folded up the notebook that she had had open on the table. The old woman nodded gravely, smiling a nervous smile, her hands clutching an antique purse. Cam shook his head. Why she was even allowed in, he would never know. Her time in the resistance had passed. For some reason, she was still clinging on.

"Hello, everyone," said Jones, still smiling insanely. From her purse, she withdrew a steaming plate covered with plastic wrap. "Cookies?"

Cam quickly lunged for the plate. If nothing else, Leticia Jones was handy in the snacks department.

For several minutes, there was only the sound of contented munching. They all needed a break.

Jones cleared her throat. They all turned. She pushed her glasses up onto her head, then swallowed.

"I've been thinking…" she began. "I've been thinking that maybe we're going about this all the wrong way."

A line of disapproval appeared on Celesa's brow. "What do you mean?"

"Well... the car wreck you all pulled made me start to think..."

Celesa waved an impatient hand. "Lord, Jones, that wasn't us. That was pea-brain Cam Willis over there, thinking he'd deviate from plans. It was a fluke."

Jones tapped her purse. "Oh. Well." She cast a nervous glance at Reggie, who had pulled out another cigarette. She cleared her throat. "Anyway... it made me start to think that maybe we've been going about it all wrong. Y'know, the whole 'wipe out the royal line' thing. There are simpler ways to hold a revolution…" Cam winced inwardly at the word. _It's not a revolution. It's just revenge._

"And what would you propose?" Celesa asked, her tone dangerous.

Jones paused. "Well… you know that the real problem is Neptune. Ever since the beginning, he's been slaughtering innocents. Even now, after his new degree, he still punishes those who don't agree with him, locking them in dungeons… _without the knowledge of his daughter._ You know she's the one who demanded that he be more lenient…"

"We all know the story, Jones," snapped Cam. "Get to the point."

Jones continued, undaunted. "So it stands to reason that Mindy will not be the person her father was. Her reign would benefit the country. The sooner she takes the throne, the better. I'm saying that it might be wise to spare her life."

Only several moments of uncomfortable silence greeted her proposal. Cam could barely think through the cloud of indignation that gripped him. _No! It was out of the question! Mindy… as Queen?_ His finger curled unconsciously again, twisting in their bandages. He winced as bits of glass pinched his wounds. He still hadn't had a chance to rinse them out.

At last, Celesa spoke. "That's preposterous."

Jones continued quickly, her words rushing out. "Hear me out. I say we warn the princess of what will come. Give her time to get out of the way. Then you can do whatever you want." She sat down hurriedly, clutching her purse.

Cam looked anxiously at Celesa, trying to gauge her reaction. Her gaze remained the same, cold and determined. He admired her, in more ways than one. But the fact that she would even think about considering such a ridiculous idea made his stomach bunch into knots...

At last Celesa looked up and said in a stiff voice, "And you would want her to take the throne afterwards?"

Jones fidgeted. "She would be a wise and kind ruler. I think it would be for the best..."

Celesa pursed her lips tightly. "Monarchies _breed_ corruption. That's our whole focus right now: the abolishment of the monarchy... to develop a _free_ state of democracy. It will make little difference whether or not Mindy is 'a wise and kind ruler.' To say that one person is over everyone else in the country is just _wrong_." Celesa shook her head. "I'm afraid I can't see the advantages of sparing her."

Jones frowned. "I suppose..."

Cam smiled widely at Celesa. She didn't return his gesture. Reggie drummed his fingers on his knee.

Jones left soon after.

No one guessed that her crusade was far from over.

---

The sun was bright in the morning sky, glinting off the white alabaster of the palace walls. Flags snapped from the high turrets, casting flickering, jumping shadows on the ground below. It wasn't an ominous setting, but every movement seemed like a warning to Dennis. The gates groaned and hissed as they were cranked upward. Dennis marched across the courtyard, his long strides quickly covering the gap. His hands were jammed in a long black jacket, which blew out silently to reveal several knives and a handgun. His mouth was set in a grim line, a vein on his temple throbbing. If nothing else, he was prepared.

He slipped quietly into the palace, hurrying up the steps two at a time. He twisted down several corridors till he arrived at Mindy's door. He raised his fist to knock, but the door swung open before he made contact. He stood face to face with a young maid, a load of towels in her arms. She wore the King's livery of purple and gold, and a smaller version of Kalid's beret was cocked on her brown hair. She scowled at him slightly.

"The princess is asleep," she said gently, with a faint German accent. She shifted the bundle of towels in her arm.

"When will she wake up?" he asked impatiently.

"I don't know, sir." Dennis began to step around her, but the maid quickly and quietly closed the door, her eyes never leaving his.

"Don't go in there, sir. She wouldn't want to be disturbed."

"And what business did you have being there?"

She scowled and clasped her bundle. "I'm a laundry maid, sir."

His eyes rested on the heap of towels. "No clothes?"

"No, sir." She glanced downward.

He stepped aside and she hurried around him. As she passed, his elbow jutted out and the pile of laundry fell to the ground. The maid moved her hands to her face in a silent cry. There, half-hidden by a white towel, was a knife, its point gleaming in the weak sunlight.

He stared at it, eyes wide. He had expected her to be hiding something of substantial worth, an expensive comb or any little thing of value. He had seen cleaning maids stuff their pockets full of little pieces of jewelry, nothing that would be missed at once… but…

The girl was near hysterics, tiny gasps and sobs making her words slurred and nearly indiscernible.

"It was nothing, sir! I know what you're thinking, but you mustn't…! It was harmless… but I… I didn't know why… but… she said! She said that they could help me… my brother, my brother is in prison and it wasn't his fault. They could get him out! And I believed her! She _said_… she _said_! And now… now I've been caught and I'll go to the dungeons with him! You will tell… you will. But it wasn't anything… it was harmless…"

He grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her. Her talk scared him.

"What in Neptune's name did you _do_?" he half-whispered, half-screamed.

She trembled violently. "It wasn't nothin', sir. She… she told me if I just did this… my brother, my poor brother…" She wept with fresh sobs. "Please understand… I-I would never hurt the princess!"

"Who are you talking about?"

She shivered. "I don't know much, except that she knew my brother. She said that something was going to happen soon and if I cooperated, they would help Christopher. It was nothing though, sir. No harm!" She laughed nervously and cursed in German.

Soundlessly, Dennis slipped into Mindy's room. She was soundly sleeping in a canopied bed; he sighed visibly with relief. His eyes searched the room, then rested on a doll lying in the chair. It had been stabbed several times, and its head was torn completely off. Lying beside it was a note…

"Please, sir, come out of there!" she wailed. "Don't let her wake!"

Dennis seized the note and doll and strode out. Eyes flaming, he threw the headless doll at her feet. He shut the door quickly, briefly speculating that Mindy was a sound sleeper.

"What is the meaning of this?" he said, on the brink of an explosion.

"I… I believe it's a warning, sir. That's what I was told. Just read the note."

It read: _'The tides are shifting. Your kingdom is doomed, and your only hope is to flee. The time draws near. Which is more important: your throne? Or your life?'_

It was typewritten. It began to crackle as Dennis's hands shook. _This is real…_

"She talked to me last night, after work…" the maid began. "She was pretty old. She said she was with the group that Chris joined last year... Underground. She showed me a picture of Chris with all of the other members and her. I was pretty sure it was real. But Chris was... arrested by the king less than a year ago. He was innocent, sir, I swear it! Anyway... she said that once the monarchy was toppled, the prisoners would be set free, and the Underground would personally assure of Christopher's safety. I... I wanted to believe her... so much. I guess that's why I did it... Plus she offered me money... something we sorely need right now... She just told me to make sure the princess got the note and to make it as... convincing as possible. And not to get caught..." The girl burst into a fresh round of quiet tears. "Please..."

"Did you know their names? The ones in the... Underground?"

"Yeah... There's a guy named Toby. He was about Chris's age, I guess, no more than 21. But I can't tell you much else… There were two other guys in the picture, though... The old woman... And another girl..."

Dennis thought back quickly to the shady group of people outside of the hospital... Three men... One girl... and Jones...

_Toby_... He rolled the name around his mouth, testing it. It didn't sound familiar. He'd definitely remember it now, though...

Dennis fingered the note, his heart thumping. Waves of nausea rolled through him, but he fought it and leveled his voice.

"Did she specify what they had 'planned'?"

"No… no, sir… that woman sounded like she didn't want them to hurt her... but I can only imagine… but… because I took her money… you won't… please, sir, just don't tell the king! I would never hurt anyone! I just…"

"You're an accomplice to them," he hissed. "Which makes you guilty of treason…"

"But… but…" Her eyes took on a sudden gleam. "What if—what if I told you…"

"Told me what?"

"She told me to make sure it got to Mindy quick because she was afraid that something was going to happen tonight... at a... concert? Does that mean anything?"

Dennis leaned against the wall, rubbing a hand over his face. Tonight was the concert… he glanced down at the doll.

"Get that thing out of here and we'll forget it ever happened…"

She beamed with joy, gathering up the knife and towels as well. "You won't regret it, sir! I promise!" She was gone.

Tonight! He unconsciously fingered his own knife, going over the new revelation again and again in his mind. Was the old lady Jones? _'The time draws near...'_ Those same words had been used with the note he had received last night. How was Jones mixed up in all this? Did it make sense that she would belong to a group that wanted Mindy dead... and then turn around and warn her?

But one thing was for sure... There _was_ a danger, against Mindy, against the whole kingdom… But what should he do with this knowledge? Mindy should know… Then he paused, remembering what Kalid had said in the carriage… about how Mindy's safety was a touchy subject… Maybe… He shook his head, thinking. Well, he wouldn't tell her _first_…

Better to let the Council know immediately. They'd know what to do…

---

Dennis polished the blade of his knife with an oiled cloth, quick rhythmic strokes across its smooth surface till he could see a reflection. He was leaning against the wall, his mind racing wildly. He fished the note out of his pocket. _'…Your kingdom? Or your life?…' _Was Jones only giving her until tonight to decide? Would it really be at the concert? If only…

The doors to the Council chambers burst open and Kalid stood there timidly. He shut the doors behind him quickly and took a deep breath.

"Your request for an audience has been refused," he said very quietly.

"Did you—"

"Yes, I told them you claimed to have substantial evidence about a plot, but they won't hear it."

Dennis's fury escalated rapidly and he flung the note at Kalid.

"They won't _hear_ it!" he yelled. "They _refuse_, do they? Of course they wouldn't want to hear that despite their _best_ security efforts, their princess is still in danger!" He scowled fiercely and ran a quick hand through his dark hair. Kalid let out an exasperated sigh.

"Dennis… I hate to say this… But it's not unusual to get an occasional 'odd' letter. Royalty are becoming more like celebrities in power. And not everyone loves all celebrities, now do they?"

Dennis fought back the urge to wring him by his scrawny little neck…

"So that's it, then?" he growled. "They don't believe me. You don't believe me." He couldn't tell Kalid about the girl without getting her in trouble, and he doubted if she was even still in the palace. He didn't even know her name.

"Here's my advice: take it easy for the next few days. You've been taking care of Mindy ever since the accident. I think it's gone to your head…"

Dennis set his lips in a grim line, and once more an image of Mindy, pale and covered with blood, filled his head. _No!_

"If you won't help me, I'll protect her myself…" he muttered fiercely, exiting the room. Kalid bit his lip nervously, wringing his cap in his hands…


	5. Part Cinco

_A/N: _I really have to get a jump on this updating thing. grins sheepishly I'm not too regular, I'm afraid. But luckily I think I've finally settled into the groove of school again... sort of. I have a ridiculously easy semester, so there's really no excuse to shirk my fanfic account. But I do.

Enough whining. I need to put a quick disclaimer in. The band Stingray 5000 (mentioned briefly in Missing Identity) is featured in this chapter. None of the characters involved with them are mine. DiamondTopaz was toying with a fic about them, and she came up with all their names. And she also wrote a very short story concerning an incident in which Dennis actually met Zack and Justine. So there's a reference to that in there. Just thought I'd pay her back somehow for all the help she's been on planning this story.

One more thing: I deleted my forums. First of all, there were a couple of problems of late with spammers, and I realized that I really don't have time to moderate a forum in addition to all the other stuff that's rapidly crowding in my life. So sorry, guys. Just have too much on my plate.

Anyway, hope you enjoy the fifth chapter!

Disclaimer: I do not own SpongeBob or any related characters. Stingray 5000 fancharacters belong to DiamondTopaz.

_**Part Cinco: Of Life**_

There was a warehouse just south of the city that had been abandoned for years. Flames had consumed it one cool night, igniting all the dry cardboard boxes that were stacked in heaps in the corners. No one ever bothered to repair it, or even tear it down.

That's where Toby Cullen was headed: Warehouse D-119, not too close to the landing docks but not too far away. Some instances required that their group have easy access to ships.

This was only about the third time he had ever been there, even though he'd been in the gang for almost a year now. He was mainly an intelligence man, sending messages by cipher when something needed to be reported. But the message he now carried was too important to rely on anyone but himself.

The light on the warehouse door flickered as he approached, the wires attached to it almost completely severed. He surveyed the area. No one in sight. He opened the door and stepped inside.

The smell of burnt wood still lingered, but faintly. Aside from the blackened ceilings and walls, there was little evidence of the fire. The windows were still there, and a workbench even remained in a tiny office where the guards used to sit. Toby shed his coat and walked into the office.

Celesa was stretched out in her chair, her boots struck across the desk. Cameron leaned against the wall, his arms folded. Reggie was sitting in another chair, cleaning a gun with a cigarette dangling from his mouth. And old Jones was there, too, sitting quietly in the corner, knitting, looking completely out of place.

"Toby?" Celesa asked, looking up, her eyes confused. "What are you doing here?"

"Something's happened. I thought I should let you know." Everyone's head snapped up.

"What?" Celesa said slowly.

"It seems there's been a breach..."

"What?" Celesa repeated, her face growing pale.

"You'll recall Chris's sister, Alain?" Celesa nodded, as did the others, remembering their former comrade. "This morning she went into the princess's room, where she left a threatening warning that Princess Mindy should leave the country."

Celesa scrunched up her face in puzzlement. "Why would she do that? I know she never agreed with us, but she wouldn't help the royalty, after what they did to her brother..."

Toby shook his head. "Someone put her up to it. Someone who didn't want the plan to follow through. Someone who _knew_ what was going on."

Three heads twisted toward Jones. Toby followed their gaze. Her face was going red.

"Jones?" Celesa said testily. "_What _did you do?"

"...I don't think she should die..." Jones mumbled.

Celesa slammed her fist down on the table. "Look, either you're all the way in or all the way out! We can't have someone who informs on us just because we think differently than they do... If you weren't older than dirt..." Jones colored. Celesa trailed off. She looked furiously at Cam. "You _all_ need to get your priorities in order! We are going with the original plan! We are not going to back out or take matters into our own hands! Anyone who disagrees can leave right now!"

No one spoke a word. Toby cleared his throat hesitantly.

"What?" Celesa growled. Toby was sure her eyes were a shade darker.

"Umm... okay. It's not all bad. Alain delivered the warning, but... ah... the princess never even saw it."

Celesa straightened. "Well, what happened to it?"

"Umm... someone kind of... caught Alain in the process..."

Celesa turned bright red and lunged to grab a heavy lamp.

"But the incident wasn't reported!" Toby said quickly. Celesa stopped mid-throw.

"What?" she said for the fourth time.

"The guy let her go. He cleared out the room, talked to her for a while, and then let her go--without even so much as getting a name! I'm told that he went to talk to the Council about heightened security, but they refused to see him..."

"Who was it?" Reggie asked suddenly.

"Umm... it was the princess's boyfriend."

Reggie nodded profoundly, smiling to himself. "You're coming with me tonight, ain'tcha, Toby?"

"Yeah."

Reggie smirked, then turned to Celesa. "Then you probably won't have to worry your pretty little head about him much longer..."

---

"Please, Mindy, just stay at home!" If there was one thing Dennis had learned through the years, it was to never take unnecessary risks.

"Come on, Dennis, it's Addie's birthday. And she was nice enough to get us tickets. It would be rude to refuse."

"But… it could be dangerous."

"I'm fine. I'll take it easy, like the doctor said…"

"That's not what I mean!"

"Well, then what _do_ you mean, Dennis?"

"I mean…" He hesitated, wondering how much he should tell her. "I mean… there are so many people there… and no bodyguards…"

Her cheeks flushed hotly. Her mouth set in a cold, firm line. "No. I refuse to bring any."

"But it's important to be safe. No one will think any less of you…"

"No guards. That's final. We'll be leaving at 8:00." She whirled around, her shoulders hunched, a pained look on her face. Dennis stared after her quizzically as she left the room. It wasn't like her to be so… adamant about something as trivial as an extra bodyguard or two.

_Well, now there's no alternative_, he thought. _I'll be the only one able to help her._ Beneath his numbing fear was a kind of thrill, a morbid exhilaration at the prospect of a real challenge, a chance to prove he hadn't lost his touch. It was also a chance to prove that his… skills… did come in handy; he had to demonstrate through actions that he had changed, that he had abandoned his old way of life.

But this wasn't a game. A life was at stake, perhaps the most important life of all. Cold fury rolled through him. They'd tried to take her life once. He'd be damned if he let them do it again…

---

The concert was held in a fairly small building, large enough to house about 1,000 people. He had expected a huge sell-out stadium, from the way Addie and Mindy raved on. No matter. A small crowd was less dangerous.

Addie presented her tickets with flair to a sullen-looking taker. He scowled and roughly handed back their stubs. Dennis ushered the girls inside. Some people were just always cynical that way. Some people were assassins. And usually there was no way to tell the difference.

Chairs had been set up in long rows with wide aisles in between. The inside of the hall had concrete floors and brick walls; high metal rafters obscured the ceiling. Lights and projectors hung from every angle. A small stage had been erected in the back of the room. Microphones, speakers, drum sets, keyboards, and instrument cases littered the stage. People milled about, their voices rising in an excited din. A table was set up near the stage, filled with rows and rows of albums. A huge line streamed from it, fans waiting to get autographs before the show. Addie quickly steered them to the line.

"Did you bring paper?" Mindy asked. Addie smiled and opened her backpack. It was filled to the brim with CDs, hats, shirts, and posters, all bearing the Stingray logo.

"And one of those guitars is mine," said Addie, nodding to a row of cases against the wall. "I had one of my friends deliver it here."

"I thought _we_ were your friends…" Mindy teased.

Addie rolled her eyes and snapped her bag shut.

"I just want to meet them…" she muttered.

"Well, let's go!" Mindy exclaimed, grabbing Addie's hand. Dennis walked quickly behind them, trying to watch everything at once. Mindy pulled Addie past the line, ignoring the protests of the agitated fans, and drew to a halt right in front of the table.

"Excuse me. I'm Princess Mindy, and my friend is your biggest fan."

"Hey." The man sitting at the table smiled a friendly smile. His black hair hung flat around his ears. He was skinny, and a plain black collar circled his thin neck. "I'm Alex. This is Rocco, Charlie, Shaw, and Zack. And this is Justine, our unofficial mascot."

Addie trembled slightly. It only took her a moment to dump her merchandise on the table and start babbling about how their band was her inspiration. Zack and Alex cast sidelong glances at each other, but listened politely, markers flying.

Dennis stared at Justine. She had a petite build, for an octopus, her pale green skin almost glowing in the dim light. She had long wavy auburn hair and a sweet smile on her face. It was the wild hair, that brilliant shade of golden red, that jolted a memory. Her face was familiar. Justine apparently remembered, too.

She clutched Zack and stared at Dennis, her round eyes trusting. She whispered something in Zack's ear and he nodded.

"Well, well, well… if it isn't the 'knight in shining armor'," Zack said to Dennis. "I wondered why Justine had her eyes on you…"

Justine beamed.

"What's going on?" Mindy said slowly.

Justine looked at Mindy and curtsied dramatically. "So you two are together? Hang onto him, Your Grace. He has a heart of gold."

Mindy waved a hand at Justine's formality. "You know them, Dennis?"

He blushed and shuffled his feet awkwardly, the memories rolling silently through his mind like a movie in fast-forward.

"Oh, it's nothing… it's just… about a year or so ago, I saw her with the band at a bar… some guy was giving her trouble, so I helped her out… it's not a big deal, really…"

"So modest," said Justine. "He saved my life!"

"Seriously?" Mindy's voice was quiet.

"Uh, yeah… so… thanks," Zack said bluntly. "Woulda been terrible if something had… happened to her. I guess I gave you kind of a hard time…"

"It's okay," Dennis said quickly. "I don't blame you. I'd probably act defensive too, if… if I were put in your place."

Zack nodded, obviously as uncomfortable as Dennis. Mindy's brow was creased with thought.

"So you knew Zack all this time?" Addie quipped. "And you didn't even tell us?"

"We didn't leave on the best of terms. I wouldn't say we _knew_ each other, anyway…"

"Guys, five minutes," said a stagehand.

"That's our cue," Zack said, relaxing. "Hope you guys enjoy the show." The band left but Justine lingered, fingering a lock of red hair.

"Like I said, Princess Mindy, you're one lucky girl!" She gave Dennis a peck on the cheek and hurried off to center stage. Dennis blushed again, well aware of his heated face.

Addie scowled. "She's nice and all, but almost _too_ nice. I don't understand what Zack sees in her."

Mindy brightened, smiling mischievously. "Yeah, you're just jealous."

"Hm-hmm. Miss Perfect is stealing both our guys at the same time."

There were loud protests from both Dennis and Mindy. The loudspeaker hummed suddenly, rising to a piercing shriek. Justine adjusted the mike.

"Hello, Bikini Bottom! And welcome to Stingray 5000's Live Concert Jam Tour! We have a couple of announcements before we start:" Justine shuffled through a pile of sticky notes in her hand. "First, a very happy birthday to Addie Stevenson! Where are you, Addie? For your special day, a free Stingray T-shirt!"

Addie caught the wadded shirt as Justine threw it. She shook her head in disgust. "I already have this one."

"Next: a message to all Underground members. 'Be ready to roll at 11!' Sorry you'll have to leave us, guys…"

11 o'clock. _Underground_. A sharp pain worked its way through Dennis's spine. He recognized it as that premonition of fear, that almost-dread he felt before a kill. 11 o'clock.

_Underground_. Maybe he could work the girls out of here before 11. It wouldn't be much of a respite, if these guys were for real, but at least it would buy him more time to get proof of the danger. Right now not even Mindy would listen to him.

Justine went on about rules and regulations, and the exclusive deals offered at the merchandise stand. At last the lights darkened, leaving a blue fog on the stage.

"Now please welcome to the stage Stingray 5000!" A cadence of rapid drumbeats began. The bass and electric joined in, then the keyboard with swift chords. Strobe lights flickered blindingly. The concert had begun.

The threesome settled into the nearest chairs, Dennis guarding the edge of the aisle. He tapped his foot to the beat for a while, then stopped. It wasn't exactly his _favorite_ kind of music.

Besides, that wasn't the important thing here. He shifted his eyes around the room, hoping to find the telltale signs of an assassin. It was too dark to see much of anything.

"What are we sitting down for?" Addie yelled over the dissonant notes. She yanked Mindy and Dennis to their feet (tail, in Mindy's case).

Most of the night passed uneventfully. Dennis trailed Mindy wherever she went, looking fearfully for weapons hidden in the darkness. He kept his hand on a knife in his pocket and his other hand on Mindy's shoulder.

Addie was talking to another boy about her age. She waved them over excitedly.

"Thanks for bringing my guitar," she was saying. "I'm going to get it autographed after the show."

"No prob," said the boy. He had wavy dark hair and pale brown eyes. He wore a creased leather jacket and cowboy boots. There was a spark of mischief in his eyes, something that made Dennis a little uneasy.

"Toby, my friends, Dennis and Mindy. Dennis, Mindy, Toby."

"_Enchante_," Toby said, reaching for Mindy's hand. Dennis surreptitiously pulled her out of reach, eyes wide.

"Nice band," Toby continued, unperturbed.

Dennis shook his head slowly. _It was a coincidence… No. What were the chances?_

"How do you know Addie?" Mindy asked politely. Dennis grabbed her hand and pulled her away into a screaming mass of bodies. It was 10:50.

"Dennis! What are you doing? I was trying to have a conversation!"

"That kid is bad news. I've heard things about him."

Mindy looked at him incredulously. "Of all people to judge by appearance…" she breathed. "Believe me, Dennis, _I've_ heard bad things about _you_. You think you were magically permitted to be with me? Every day my father tells me you're bad news. Every day he threatens to never let me see you again…" There were tears in her eyes. "And now _you're_ telling me _he's_ bad news? You've talked to him for two seconds and you assume the rest based on what you've heard?"

"I just want to protect you…" he pleaded, but it was useless.

"Some people think I need protection from you," she said coldly.

A slow song wafted through the room, the first pleasant song he had heard all night. He saw Toby go off with Addie, and several couples were wandering off into pairs. He grasped Mindy's hand and pulled her tightly around him.

"You don't believe that, do you?" he asked softly.

She hesitated, then leaned toward him. "No…"

"If I act crazy sometimes, it's only because I love you…" he said, feeling a warm tide of emotion coursing through him.

She sighed. "I know. I-I love you, too…"

His lips brushed hers, and there were tears in his eyes.

There was a loud clap that filled the room, easily carrying over the soft music. A sharp pain roared through his arm. Dennis convulsed as white hot flashes filled his eyes. He steadied himself until they focused. He wavered dizzily, groaning.

"Dennis? What is it?" Mindy cried, her eyes with panic. She gripped his shoulders to keep him from falling. She pulled her hand away from his left shoulder.

"You're hurt!" she cried, a sob of disbelief escaping her. Her hand was covered with blood.

Blood was soaking through the sleeve of his jacket, a dark stain growing larger with every passing second. He tightened the sleeve and held it with his other hand, trying to stop the flow of blood.

_No…_ His mind echoed with a series of images, as always ending with her broken body. He shuddered and grabbed her hand just as another shot rang out. She screamed.

He moved his arm around her, wincing as the bullet in his arm shifted, sending fresh tremors of pain rolling through him. With his good arm he withdrew a gun.

There were cries of alarm and terror from the crowd, a vast majority of them cowering to the floor, arms flailing.

"Are you okay?" It was Addie, forging her way through the panicked throng. She gasped as she saw Dennis's arm, blood dripping onto the concrete floor.

"Where's Toby?" he asked gruffly. She shook her head.

"He went off a couple of minutes ago. Why?"

Another shot echoed off the walls. It embedded itself into the wall behind them. Mindy clutched his waist, all color gone from her skin, her face shining with tears. Her lips were open in a silent cry. He hated to leave her…

Gently, he pried himself from her grip, easing her gently to the ground. "Get out of here, both of you," he said to Addie, who merely nodded, her face as pale as Mindy's.

He turned away, careful to conceal his gun. The last thing he wanted was to be accused of the shootings.

He leaped onto the stage, his gray eyes searching. There. Someone was sitting on the rafters, waiting to climb down on one of the dangling ropes. He caught the glint of what might be a weapon.

And there was Toby, sidling towards one of the doors. He decided Toby would be easier prey.

Dennis was blocking his way before Toby had time to react.

"Who's shooting?" Toby said wildly. He was playing the role of innocent teenage boy perfectly.

"Yes, who?" Dennis growled. He grabbed him by the shirt collar and slammed him against the wall. "I'll fill your brains with lead right here unless I get some answers."

"I don't know nothing," Toby said calmly, but his skin had turned paler.

"Don't give me that. Someone wants to hurt Mindy, and you're in on it." He was surprised how much his own voice shook.

Toby stared at him, those ocher eyes displaying nothing of his intentions.

Dennis pressed the gun against Toby's side. Toby's breath caught, but he regained it steadily, raising a hand in surrender. A slow smile spread across his face.

"You're Dennis. Mindy's friend."

"What of it?"

Toby just smiled. "Don't worry. I can promise you that no one was aiming for her."

Toby rested his elbows against the wall and delivered a swift kick between Dennis's legs. Dennis dropped the gun, his face a mixture of shock and agony. Toby was gone. The shadow in the rafters was gone as well. No more shots rang out. Mindy and Addie were being led outside with a police officer that had shown up. It's seemed they were safe… for now.

Dennis cursed himself, Toby, and Great Neptune for his clever idea of supplying mortals with such painfully sensitive body parts…


End file.
